


A Mutual Addiction

by okayhotshot



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, M/M, Rockstar AU, also warning for drug and alcohol use later in this fic, they are punk rock singers what more could you want, trash baby band au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-02-22 18:10:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2517038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okayhotshot/pseuds/okayhotshot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the front man of one of the hottest punk rock bands in the country, Marco Bodt knows a thing or two about how tough the music industry can be. It has taken its own kind of toll on him and now he’ll have to watch it work its cruel magic on the newest band to hit Titan Records, Potential Disaster. The industry isn’t all fun and games, and Marco is going to have to teach the newbies that living a double life isn’t as easy as they might think.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So this is my first JeanMarco fic. Thanks to southspinner for that one. I hope that you guys enjoy! Here is chapter one!

Sitting in my small apartment in downtown Chicago, I’ve decided that maybe take-out will be my best option for dinner. I don’t have anything to cook and I don’t really feel like going out. It’s hard to tell what sort of people I would run into. It could be fans, or it could always be reporters. While fans wouldn’t bother me, I might have a few choice words for the wrong sort of reporter today.

I’m so comfortable that I don’t even want to reach forward when my iPhone starts going off. I actually let out a groan at the mere idea of moving, but Connie’s ringtone is something that I can’t ignore. It could be something important. I dig my palms into the arms of my chair and push myself forward. I swipe the phone from its spot on the coffee table and swipe my thumb across the screen to answer.

“Yeah?”

“Marco! I wasn’t sure that you’d answer.”

“I almost didn’t,” I reply, plopping back down into my precious position. The only thing that’s changed is this time I have a cell phone pressed to my ear.

“I would have kicked your ass out of the band.”

“That’s a lie,” I say, a smirk working its way across my face.

“Well it would sure give me an excuse to,” Connie says with a laugh. “Damn you though for calling my bluff. See, even you know how much we need you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter. My cheeks are heated and if Connie was in the room, I probably wouldn’t be making eye contact with him. As much as I know that the statement is true, sometimes it’s still hard for me to accept. I’m not exactly the king of self-confidence. “Anyway, what do you want? You never call unless you need something.”

“I need you to come out with me tonight.”

“No.”

“Marco, you don’t even know what I want you to do,” Connie whines. I give a roll of my eyes. Does he actually think that will work on me?

“I don’t care,” I reply. “I don’t want to move from this chair.”

“But, Marco, hear me out at least. There’s a new band. Well, they’re not new, but they just started getting hype. I think they might be the kind of sound we’re looking for at Titan.”

“So you need me to come help you look at a band you want to sign? Why not ask Thomas or Franz?”

I know the answer even before the question has full fallen from my lips. It’s because Connie values my opinion more than anyone else in the band. I still haven’t figured out why. But I was the deciding factor in signing our newest group, Vertigo. Connie didn’t even start talking contracts with them until I gave the okay. Connie is perfectly capable of signing a band on his own. He knows the label better than anyone. He founded it for crying out loud, but Connie always seems to need validation that he’s making a good decision. It doesn’t happen often. Connie is picky about who he signs to Titan. I don’t blame him. We’re where we are today because of that factor alone.

“Marco, come on. It’s a small band. Two members I think. They’re still looking for a drummer. But even without a permanent addition to their line-up, they’re getting noticed,” Connie explains. He sounds excited.

“Who is it? Any chance that I’ve heard of them?”

“They’re called Potential Disaster,” Connie tells me. “One of their demos came across my desk the other day.”

“What do you mean by “came across your desk”?”

I know that it’s never that easy. Everyone that’s ever been signed to the label has somehow gotten in contact with Connie and harassed him until he gave them a chance. Sometimes it paid off, other times Connie had to tell them to hit the road. And as far as I know, I’m the only exception. I never really thought that I would make it big.

I mean, I dreamed about it. What artist doesn’t? There were nights where I thought about nothing but the fans screaming in sold-out stadiums that I would never play. Sometimes the very idea of having a number one song on the Billboard Top One Hundred was the only thing swirling around in my head.

But it was never about that. It’s always been about the music. If I had been destined to play in bars for twenty dollars a night for the rest of my life that would have been okay with me. But here I am, a member of one of the hottest bands in the country and there’s no going back.

When I joined A Mutual Addiction, they were nothing but a bunch of kids playing sad, punk rock in Connie Springer’s garage. I really can’t talk. I was playing sad, punk rock in crappy pubs in downtown Chicago. Anyway, they had barely got their footing at all. Connie found me in a bar one night and he didn’t hesitate to approach me. I thought I was wasting my time by showing up to see how I worked with the band. Connie had all these obnoxious dreams about starting his own record company and getting the band’s first record out there. I wasn’t one to hate on anyone’s dreams. I had enough ridiculous ones myself, but everything that Connie was telling me sounded almost impossible. But when I got there, it was clear they had talent. They just needed the right guy to front them. I can’t believe Connie thought that person was me. I had asked Connie why he didn’t take the spot as lead singer. Admittedly, it would probably be easier for him to find a lead guitarist, that’s when the entire band burst into a fit of laughter. Connie couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket, apparently.

Okay. So there was that. I still didn’t get why Connie thought that I might be the best choice for the vision that he had in his head. I’m shy and timid at best on stage. I can’t even stare out at a crowd for too long without wanting to show them my regurgitated dinner. He didn’t know that and I didn’t intend to tell him. He could find out later.

It didn’t take me long to figure out that they needed a lyricist. Connie could only manage so much on his own. Some of the stuff that they had was good, but I could make it better. I may not have the most confidence of anyone that I’ve ever met, but I knew and I still know that the lyrics that I write are great.

Long story short, I did end up being just what the band needed. I meshed well with the guys and I have the vocals that they need. And as it turned out, Connie’s dream wasn’t so far-fetched. He ended up getting that record company up and running in almost no time and our first album dropped not long after.

It wasn’t over night by any means, but we did blow up. People ate up our music and begged for more. Not just from us. Connie ended up signing some other bands and we’re actively searching all of the time. It’s no different now that we’re getting ready to drop our fourth album. We have a huge tour planned with two other bands on our label. The moment we announce it, I know the fans are going to go crazy. I feel like I haven’t been on the road in forever even though it’s only been a little over a year, but that’s long enough for me. I’m always itching to go new places and give back to the people that have put us here. In my opinion, it’s the only thing as good as getting to make music for a living.

“I mean that one of their demos **literally** came across my desk. I don’t know who left it there, but someone did. I sort of tucked it away. I didn’t really feel like listening to it at the time if I’m being honest. But that’s not the point. Anyway, a couple weeks after that I started hearing about them. I saw some flyers for them and I knew that I had heard that name. So I went to my office and I found the demo and I listened to it and Marco, they’re incredible.”

“And you want to check them out live before you contact them?”

“Exactly! You know how I am. Please say you’ll go. They’re playing downtown tonight. You won’t even have to go that far. And I promise you if they suck, I’ll let you leave early.”

I let out a sigh. I can’t say no to Connie. Besides, these guys might actually be good. “All right,” I finally say. “I’ll go with you.”

“Fuck yes,” Connie whispers into the receiver. “I knew that you would say yes. All right. We need to be there by seven-thirty. Want me to pick you up or will you meet me there?”

“I’ll get there. Just tell me where I’m going.”

***

“What a shitty little bar,” Connie says as we approach the door. It’s tucked away on the side of a building, hidden by an alley and a much larger restaurant next to it. I’m surprised that the place even has business. This was the kind of venue that I used to play. I don’t know if I feel nostalgia or something different entirely, but it sure brings back memories.

“This is the kind of thing I used to do, remember? You found me in a little dump like this,” I tell him, reaching up and readjusting my hat. It’s my shield. If it’s out in public or on the stage, it’s how I protect myself from the things that I don’t want to see. I can get rid of the crowd with a tip of my hat and I feel much better.

“Found a fucking diamond in a pile of garbage is what I did,” Connie says with a grin, tossing an arm around me and pulling me a bit closer.

“Well maybe you’ll get lucky again,” I say with a smile.

As much as Connie irritates me sometimes, I couldn’t ask for a better best friend. He’s been there for me since the moment I joined the band for good. He’s helped me with my stage fright. He let me know that my shyness is okay, and so much else. He’s done wonders for my self-esteem and I could never thank him enough, even though I try.

“Why don’t we find out?” Connie asks and he pushes the door open and we step into the pub.

The inside isn’t much better than the outside. It’s a bit rundown. The tables have obviously been in use for at least a decade. Whether that’s the look they were going for or not, I don’t know. There’s a way to make things looked aged and actually having them in use for any extended amount of time isn’t the way to go. There are things hanging from the walls, old, broken records, beaten up, crinkled and framed black and whites of the greats.

“They must be desperate,” Connie mutters, looking around at the place. “This place looks like a dumpster from another bar threw up on it.”

I simply nod in agreement. The place, despite the way it looks, is decently crowded. The chatter of the patrons is enough to cover up anything negative that Connie and I have to say about the bar’s appearance or the band.

“Let’s get a seat,” I mutter, making my way through the tables and settling at a high top in the back of the building. The lights on the stage are dimmed and I can see the faint outline of a guitar, a bass mic stands, and a laptop set up on a cart. They must be using Band in a Box since they don’t have a drummer.

I have to admit, I’m sort of excited to see these guys, whoever they are. I’ve never been pulled out to see a band live with Connie. I usually give the okay after they come and perform again in the studio. He must think that these guys really have potential.

“Are they from Chicago?”

“No,” Connie says. “That’s why I wanted to drag you out to see them. They’re not from around here. Apparently they’re from some hick-ass town in Maine or something. Got some money saved up and came out to try and make it big. This is apparently their last night here.”

“And you want to catch them before they head out,” I reply, not removing my eyes from the darkened, dinky stage.

“Bingo,” Connie replies. “If we like them enough, we can extend them the cash to stay here a couple extra nights so we can talk contracts and stuff.”

“I’ve haven’t heard you be so sure about a band since you started the company, man,” I say, finally glancing back over at my friend.

“I should have let you listen to the demo, Marco,” Connie says. “These guys, they’re incredible. I think they could really make it big. They just need the right outlet. I think that we can help them.”

I don’t respond. I hear the light strumming of a guitar  and I know that they set is about to start. As notes start to pour from fingers across strings, I can’t help but think about how Connie took a chance on me. If it hadn’t been for that, I wouldn’t be where I am today. I hope that Connie can help these guys. For their sake, I hope that they’re good.

The lights come up on the tiny stage, revealing the two boys that created Potential Disaster. The singer’s voice is just the right mix of smooth and raspy, and he can hold a note like it’s nobody’s business. I focus on the dark haired singer for a moment. He’s got the stage presence and the voice and the look. Let’s just hope the other boy is up to par.

My gaze eventually shifts to the other guitarist, his fingers dancing elegantly along the frets of his bass. I slowly allow my eyes to settle on his face. He’s handsome. That’s the first thing that I notice. Good bone structure, nice cheekbones, and a cute undercut resting on the top of his head. And the way he plays his instrument is memorizing. I find myself hoping that the beautiful sounds that I’m hearing are real and not just something I’ve cooked up in my head because I’m mesmerized by the boy in my sights.

I’m watching him, studying him. His lips fall open to sing background lyrics and I feel like my heart is racing. I didn’t expect to be attracted to one of the members of this up and coming band, but here I am, staring down the blonde boy with no shame. I’m sure that Connie has noticed by now, and I’m not sure that I care.

“What do you think?”

Connie’s voice is what finally brings me out of my trance. I turn to look at him, simply nodding my head. “They’re incredible,” I manage to get out over the sounds of cheering in the small bar.

“They’re more than incredible!” Connie exclaims. “Are you nuts? I think that we just found our next group. We gotta go talk to them after the show.”

I instantly start shaking my head. Connie is the one in this band that handles the business. In no way, shape or form, am I one to go and help get a band signed to the label. I’ll do nothing but stumble on my words and make myself look like an idiot. I know that it would be even worse if I was in the presence of that guy. “You can go. I’ll just say here while you do it.”

“No. No. No. You’re not getting away from me that easily,” Connie says. “You came here. You should have known what you were signing up for if they were good. Got it?”

I sigh, giving a shrug of my shoulders in return. “Fine,” I reply, raising my voice a little as the next song starts. “But if I scare them off, it’s your fault, not mine.”

“Don’t be such a worry wart, Bodt,” Connie insists, reaching over and giving me a pat on the shoulder. “Have a little more faith in yourself. You charm the socks off of everyone that you meet.”

“Trust me,” I say. “It’s not intentional.”

“I know it’s not,” Connie says, waving over the nearest server. He must want something to drink. “But we need your little charming smile and kind words to get to them. They might have offers lined up around the block. You never know.”

I simply give a simple nod of my head, deciding that it’s best not to argue with Connie. It does no good and as far as I’m concerned, we need them on the label anyway. I’m not just saying that because I think the guitarist is hot either. I genuinely think that these boys have talent and if there’s one thing that Titan Records has, it’s talent. We need to add a little more of that in. We can help them make it big, and from what I’m hearing, they deserve it.

***

“How do we even know that they’ll talk to us?”

“All I’ve got to do is give them my card,” Connie says, waving me off with his hand. I roll my eyes for what feels like the millionth time tonight. Connie always thinks that he has everything figured out. And sometimes, he does. Other times, he wings it. He’s gotten more bands on the label with dumb luck than I would have thought possible.

The boys are packing up as we approach them. I hear the dark haired one muttering about something to the hot one and I feel my heart constrict in my chest for a moment. I’m not usually the kind to get instantly attracted to another human being because for all I know, they could be a huge jerk. But there’s something about this boy standing a few feet away from me. I want to get to know him, whether we end up signing Potential Disaster or not.

The boy I’ve been eyeing is the first one to notice us. He looks at us, slack jawed and wide-eyed as we come closer. He digs his elbow into his bandmate’s side and I hear the darker haired boy yelp in pain.

“Jean, what the fuck was that for?” he hisses out.

Jean, as the other boy called him, doesn’t say anything. He simply points at us and I can feel the shyness start settling in. I want to avoid even looking at the two boys as we finally end up standing before them.

“Holy shit,” the dark haired boy says as he looks up. He instantly straightens himself up and wipes some of the remaining sweat from his brow. I glance over at Jean again, before I decide that my gaze is best directed towards the floor.

I end up gazing over at Connie when he finally decides to speak. “Hello. Name’s Connie Springer, founder of Titan Records. This is Macro Bodt,” he says, lightly nudging me with his arm.

I look up from the ground long enough to give them a wave. I hate meeting new people. I’m good with people that I already know and fans. Fans I can deal with, but when it has to do with business or something unrelated, I become shy and defenseless and I hate it. I’ve been like this with every band that we’ve ever brought to the label. I just hope that I can get to know these boys as well as I have the others. I’m cool around them now. I’m almost a completely different person. I wish I could be that version of me all of the time.

“Hey,” I mange to say, giving the two boys my most genuine smile. They seem nice enough. That helps me loosen up just a little bit. I suddenly feel like I can breathe correctly again.

“We know who you are. I’m Jean and this is Eren,” Jean says, a huge grin on his face. “We’re big fans. Went to see you on your last tour.”

“More than once,” the Eren admits. “You guys are amazing. Probably some of our biggest inspiration.”

I can’t speak for Connie, or for the rest of the bad, but these are the things that make all of our hard work worth it for me. Hearing that A Mutual Addiction has actually inspired other artists out there, it make my heart feel like it’s soaring.

“Really?” I ask as a smile works its way onto my lips. “Wow. Thank you, guys. You’re incredible.”

Jean looks as if he’s about to pass out once the words tumble out of my mouth and Eren actually clutches at his chest as if  he can’t breathe. I want to laugh, but I don’t. I understand their excitement to a point. I still get star-struck and I’ve been in the business for a good while now.

“I…you guys really think so?” Jean manages to get out. He can’t hide the grin that’s breaking out across his face. I feel another one inching its way across my own and my heart swell inside of my chest. This is bad. If they get signed, I don’t know how long I’ll be able to hide the fact that I’m attracted to the guy.

“Hell yeah we do!” Connie exclaims, pulling a card from his pocket and handing to Jean. “One of your demos came across my desk somehow…”

“I…uh…that was probably our friend Mikasa,” Eren says. “You guys know her. She’s on your label.”

“I’ll be damned,” Connie says with a laugh. “Mikasa’s a sneaky one. Anyway, I didn’t listen to it right off, not until you guys started your little Chicago tour.”

“You guys heard about us?” Jean asks. He’s trying not to show it, but the more that Connie talks, the more excited that he’s getting. Jean’s not stupid. I can tell that. He knows exactly where this conversation is going and so does Eren.

“We did,” Connie says with a nod. “And good thing we did too. We heard this was your last night in Chicago.”

“Yeah,” Eren mutters. “Sort of running out of money. We stayed longer than we planned based on the pay we were getting from shows, but that only goes so far and we haven’t really gotten anywhere.”

“Well, boys, then today is your lucky day,” Connie says. “I want to invite you guys down to the studio. Get you in with a couple test drummers and talk about contracts. What do you guys say?”

“Wait. Are you serious or are you just messing with us?” Jean asks, stepping forward, an incredulous tone to his voice before Eren can jump up and holler an answer of yes. I could tell it was coming. It was practically hanging on the tip of his tongue.

“Connie doesn’t kid when it comes to signing,” I decided to butt in. I have a feeling that Jean isn’t taking Connie seriously and sometimes that’s the problem with some of the bands that he tries to add to the label. They think that Connie is jerking them around and they take their business elsewhere. I don’t want to chance it with these boys. “He’s picky when it comes to adding bands to the label.”

“And you’re really interested in us?”

“Please, Jean,” I say. I don’t know what comes over me. I don’t like the whole self doubt thing that’s radiating off of him. I might be the pot calling the kettle black here, but it doesn’t work on Jean. “You guys know that you’re good. You wouldn’t have come out here looking to try and make it if you thought you sucked. Take the card, take the offer and show up at the studio tomorrow. Sound good?”

Eren starts laughing and Jean’s mouth is hanging open again. I think that if I could see Connie’s face it would be a lot similar to Jean’s. I never get like this. I never get feisty with people that I barely know, but Jean needed the push. I wasn’t going to let any self doubt get in the way of his dream. I almost did and I know what a huge mistake that would have been.

Jean nods his head, taking a step backwards until he’s settled beside Eren again, turning the card over in his hands. “We’d love to, but we don’t really have the money to stay another night.”

“Don’t worry about it. Tell me where you’re staying and we’ll take care of it,” Connie says.

As Connie and the boys exchange information, I can’t help but take a look at the boys again. I see so much of myself in them. Young hopefuls hoping to get their big break. Jean almost didn’t take a chance just because he was a little skeptical of the fact that the label was interested in them.

Once they’re done, we bid them goodbye and head back out of the dingy pub and onto the streets of Chicago.

“Hey, Marco,” Connie says as soon as we’ve walked a few blocks from the bar. “I know you know this was coming, but what was that back there?”

I take a deep breath and stop walking, turning to look at Connie. “Listen, I never told you this, but do you know I almost didn’t show up to the band audition when you found me in that bar years ago?”

Connie’s eyes widen. He clearly had no idea. “What? Why not?”

“Because I almost convinced myself that I wasn’t good enough. I knew, deep in me, that I was, but the moment that someone approached me and offered me a shot at my dream, I panicked. I thought you might have been taking me for a ride and you could have been, but I took a chance anyway. Despite the fact that I have lower than low self-esteem, I know the one good thing about me is my voice and my music. I didn’t let doubt hold me back. I didn’t want that Jean guy to say no and live a life full of regret wondering what might have been if he had only told that record guy “yes”.”

Connie doesn’t say anything. He simply looks at me for the longest time. I guess, surprisingly, that I’ve left the guy speechless. I don’t give him time for a reaction. I tell him that I’ll see him tomorrow and I start heading back to my apartment.

Something’s gotten into me and I don’t quite know what it is, but if I could only be like I was back at the bar all of the time, I’d probably be even happier than I already am. I try to think of anything else as I shove the keys into my front door and nearly stumble inside, but I can’t. I don’t know why, but I can’t get Jean out of my head. I don’t know it’s because I think he’s hot or if it’s because I want his band to be successful, whatever it is, he’s the last thing I think of as I lay down to go to sleep, wondering what tomorrow’s studio session will bring.  


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So it's been 1000000000 years but here is Chapter Two! I hope that you guys enjoy it! :D

“Run it again.”

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

It’s not even noon and I’ve nearly had my daily dose of Connie. And this isn’t going to make it much better. We’ve been working on laying down vocals for the new album since seven this morning and I’m ready to explode. If he as me sing the lyrics to “ _Bitter Whispers_ ” one more time, I might haul off and punch him.

“Marco, that wasn’t up to par and you know it.”

“Like hell I do!” I exclaim.  “That was the best one we’ve got!”

“Well you can do better,” Connie snaps back at me. “Come on.  We don’t have all day. I still want to get the main vocals down for “ _Shut Your Mouth_ ” before the new band gets here.”

“I’m gonna make you shut your mouth if you don’t let me take a break,” I reply. I pull off my headphones and put them securely back in place.

“Did you just threaten me using the title of your own song?” Connie asks with a grin. It’s impossible for me to stay mad at him. I guess that’s a good thing. If we were constantly fighting, the band would never have gotten anywhere.

Of course, my friendship with Connie wasn’t always this easy going. I had a hard time warming up to my bandmates. It wasn’t because they’re bad people. They’re some of the greatest people that I’ve ever met. I’m lucky to call them my friends. But it was mostly me. I would turn town invitations to hang out with them after rehearsal because I was convinced that if they got to know me that they wouldn’t like me. It was my own self-esteem issues that almost got the best of me and kept me from getting close to the best people in my life. Connie noticed that something was wrong and he confronted me about it. I was defensive at first, insisted that I wasn’t avoiding them but Connie wasn’t buying it. He helped me realize that pushing them away wasn’t the answer. I had to take risks sometimes and be open with people, regardless of what the consequences might be. Never once have I ever regretted being open with these boys. Thomas, Franz, and Connie have kept me from going insane, helped me realize that I’m not always as shy and timid as a lot of people make me out to be. The real Marco is a lot more open, a lot more fun, and a little more confident. He’s been showing himself more and more since I joined the band too.

“Yep,” I reply, tossing back a swig of water. “And I’m completely serious. We’ve been going at it since seven this morning _. Potential Disaster_ is going to be here soon anyway.”

“I don’t give two fucks when they’re getting here,” Connie says. “Run it again before I come in there and make you.”

I roll my eyes, nearly ranking the headphones back from where I had just put them and slipping them back on. I don’t say anything. I simply raise my middle finger back at him before the music starts and I have to do my best to sing the track the way that Connie wants it to be done. If I’m being honest with myself, I really don’t know what he wants from me. I’m halfway through the song when I notice the door to the studio swing open. Connie glances up and gives the newcomers a nod before turning back to the task at hand. I notice that it’s Jean and Eren almost immediately. It’s hard to miss Jean. He’s so good looking that it’s almost intimidating. Something switches in me almost, seeing him standing there makes me want to do a bit better. My annoyance at Connie disappears, my heavy eyes don’t feel like they’re about to snap shut at any given moment and instead of just singing, I’m suddenly belting my heart out where it matters most.

Before I know it, the last line of the song has been sung and the music is fading away. I tug the headphones off again to see the boys in the studio clapping. I grin at them all. I feel a swell of pride rise up in my chest. I always do when I get applauded. The fact that anyone thinks I’m talented still baffles me sometimes, other times I relish in it because I realize that they’re right.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about, Bodt!” Connie exclaims. “Take your break. Show these assholes around and then bring them back here so we can test them with Arlert.”

I give Connie a thumbs up as I make my way to the door of the booth and push it open. I walk up to Jean and Eren, shaking each of their hands in turn.

“Glad you showed up,” I tell them.

“Well, we knew you were right,” Jean says. “We knew if we didn’t come, we’d always be wondering what might have been, so we came.”

“And Mikasa urged us to come too,” Eren adds. “Though I think you had Jean convince back at the bar.”

I smile at this. I’m glad that I could urge someone to take the chance that was being given to them. I know that I almost didn’t and look where I am now. I would never want someone to make the mistake that I almost made, especially not a band with the potential that they have.

Jean elbows Eren in the ribs and Eren shoots a glare in his direction. I shake my head at the two of them. While I don’t know the reason Jean dug into his friend, I can’t help but be reminded of me with Connie. They must be close. I’m glad to see that two friends are reaching out to do something like this. It must be a lot less scary going into this with someone you know and trust. I jumped into the water of the music industry all by myself and when Connie found me I was nearly drowning.

“Well, like I said, I’m glad. Come on. I’ll show you around and we’ll bring you back in here to test a track or two out. Sound good?”

“Yeah,” the boys say together and without another word, I’m leading them out of the room and down the hallway.

“So here we have where all the action happens,” I tell them. “There’s a few different recording rooms. I think _The Radical Factor_ and _Vertigo_ are recording today. “

Eren takes in a deep breath, almost as if he’s trying to compose himself. He whispers, I know trying to let only Jean hear, but I happen to pick it up anyway.

“I can’t believe we might be on the same label. I’m going to have a heart attack.”

“Shut up,” Jean hisses. “Be professional, idiot. You don’t want them to think we’re morons, do you?”

“Well, fuck you,” Eren says a bit louder this time. “I didn’t realize we weren’t allowed to be excited.”

Just as I think that Jean is about to respond to Eren’s comment, the nearest door swings open and Mikasa Ackerman peaks her head out of the door. “I thought I heard you two,” she says and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that she’s talking about Jean and Eren.

“You think?” Jean says with sarcasm clearly lacing his voice. “You can hear Jaeger’s loud mouth from fifty miles away.”

Eren lets out a noise of disgust and Mikasa actually laughs. It’s a rare that I hear anything more than a chuckle from Mikasa when she’s not belting her heart out on stage. But, of course, I don’t’ say a word about it. Under different circumstances I might have but for some reason I feel my shyness creeping in like darkness does at the end of a long day. Maybe it’s because Jean and Eren are still new to me, but either way I don’t like it. The studio is my safe haven, a place where I put my worries to rest and my confidence improves by leaps and bounds. I don’t want to let anyone or anything ruin that. So I’m going to try my best to shove the feelings away, back into the recesses of my mind. I won’t let me get the best of me. Not today.

“Hello to you too,” Eren snaps at the dark haired girl.

“I wouldn’t be so quick to snap at me,” Mikasa says. “I reserve the right to insult you whenever I want. Not only did I lend you guys the money to come out here, but I’m the one that slipped your demo onto Connie’s desk. You’re welcome.”

So that’s how two small town musicians with a guitar, a bass, a Band in a Box, and a dream were able to hightail to Chicago to try and make it happen. It’s been bothering me since last night. I remember how I had to uproot everything to make it here. I quit school to do it. My parents weren’t exactly happy, but they extended me the rest of my college fun to get started. It wasn’t much, maybe enough to last me a semester, but it was all I needed to find an apartment and try to get my footing. When Connie found me I was going for broke. I wasn’t sure how I was going to make my next month’s rent. The gigs weren’t paying the way I wanted them to and I was starting to lose all hope. I wonder if Jean and Eren realize how lucky they are to have had help from someone like Mikasa. Not everyone is fortunate enough to get their music heard.

“You’re the one that helped them?”

“Only because I know they’re talented enough to make it,” Mikasa replies. “They may be idiots but they’ve got an incredible sound.”

I stop, wondering if I should actually ask my next question, but I can’t stop myself. “Is that the only reason?”

“No,” she says quickly. “I just remember what a hard time me and the girls had breaking into this business. I wanted to use my connections to help them as much as I could. Looks like it might have paid off. Are we signing them?”

“I’m not one hundred percent sure. Connie wants to test them with Armin first. He’s crazy about them though. I wouldn’t be surprised if Titan has a new band by the end of the day,” I reply.

There’s a deep breath from behind me. I can only assume that it comes from Eren. He seems to be the most vocal about this entire experience. I have to wonder what Jean’s whole take is on all of this. He’s been strangely quiet except for the few words he spoke to Eren. I turn to look at him and I notice that his eyes are never in one place. He’s allowing them to wander, sweep over everything that he can see, but they always settle back on the conversation at hand before going back on their journey around the hall.

“Jean? Are you okay?” I ask quietly. Eren and Mikasa are on some other subject by now, talking about which songs that _Potential Disaster_ plan on running during their test session with Armin.

The other boy seems to be pulled from his self-induced trance as I speak to him. “What? Yeah? I mean, I’m just trying to take everything in. I keep asking myself if any of this is real.” He pauses, his brow furrowing as the words pass through his lips. “Sorry. You probably think I’m being stupid. I’m acting almost as bad as Eren.”

A small laugh escapes me. “Don’t apologize. You really think that I’m going to judge you for being in awe? I remember what it was like the first time it started to all feel like a dream. Some days I still think I’m going to wake up in my first shitty apartment wondering how I’m going to pay rent. The feeling never really goes away.”

Jean lets out a breath, almost like he’s been holding it in. “Just so many people kept telling Eren and I we aren’t going to make it. It’s not because we’re not good. I know that we are. Just being where we’re from and how hard it is getting into this business, it’s crazy. Mikasa took a chance on us. She’s the only one that _really_ believed we could get here. I can’t thank her enough. She didn’t have to help us, but she did and now look where we are.”

“You guys are lucky,” I tell him. “Not everyone has connections like Mikasa. How do you guys know each other?”

“Mikasa’s my ex,” Jean admits. “Eren’s cousin and all of that to make a long story short. We’re obviously still good friends. I just don’t think we could handle the distance thing. It started to really go downhill when _The Radical Factor_ started touring. That wasn’t the only reason though.”

I’m not sure why he’s telling me the details, but for some reason, I’m glad that he is. It let m in a little and that makes me less likely to be shy.

“You dated Mikasa? I can’t really see her in a relationship,” I comment with a laugh.

Jean laughs at this too. “I don’t think Mikasa could either. That was part of the problem. We were both so wrapped up in our music.”

“And you’re an ass,” Mikasa injects with a grin. “But of course you were going to leave that part out.”

“I wasn’t,” Jean protests. “I don’t exactly make a secret out of it.”

“Isn’t that the truth,” Eren says with a grin.

I’m about to say something when the door behind Mikasa swings open and a shrill voice calls out. “Mikasa! What are you doing? We’ve got to finish the track!”

“Take a break, Sasha, geez. You’re just as bad as your boyfriend when it comes to getting things done,” Mikasa says.

“Who are you even talking to?” Sasha asks as she comes out of the room with her brown hair in a wild ponytail and a grin on her face.

“My stupid cousin and my jackass of an ex-boyfriend. I helped them get signed. I’m sure Connie’s already blabbed his mouth to you about them.”

“ _Potential Disaster_ , right? I heard your demo. You guys are sick! So it’s, like, official? Connie’s signing you guys?”

“Don’t jump the gun and get their hopes up,” I say quickly. “They still have to test with Armin and talk business with Connie.”

“Right,” Sasha says with a roll of her eyes. “I know that moron backwards and forwards. He wouldn’t shut up about them last night. As long as we can find them a drummer, they’re as good as the newest members of the company.”

“Did I hear someone mention new company members?”

And before I know it, the third and final member of _The Radical Factor_ has joined us in the hallway. Petra’s hair is a soft red naturally, but she’s had every shade of red imaginable infused into her locks and somehow it works for her. 

“Well they aren’t official yet or anything, but yeah. Meet Jean and Eren,” Mikasa says to Petra. “Remember that demo I brought in a couple of months ago? This is them.”

“I was beginning to wonder if Connie was ever going to listen to that!” Petra exclaims. She smiles at the two boys standing next to me. “You two are amazing. It’ll be so great having you on the label.”

“Even though the last thing we need is more boys causing trouble,” Sasha comments. “I could barely deal with them on the last tour.”

“We weren’t that bad,” I insist, but we really were.  Connie and I had probably played enough tricks on Mikasa and the girls to last a lifetime. 

“You literally took all of our underwear and replaced our confetti at the end of the set with them,” Sasha says. “I’m pretty sure most of the ones we lost are now on EBay or framed in some creepy fans house.”

“I’m pretty sure I saw a few pairs of those in giveaway on Tumblr,” Eren says. “And some of them are in the possession of weirdos.”

“Great,” Sasha says. “If I wanted a pervert to have my underwear I would just give them all to Connie.”

“Hey! I am not a pervert,” Connie says as he approaches, slinging his arm around Sasha’s shoulder. “At least not as far as they know. I thought that was our little secret.”

“Nothing is a secret in this studio, Springer,” Mikasa says and she turns to look at Eren and Jean. “Nothing is ever a secret for long in this business either boys, get ready to have your lives plastered all over the internet.”

I want to correct Mikasa, tell her how wrong that she is. There is a lot of us here at Titan Records whose private lives are vastly different from the ones we lead in the public eye. Some version of who they are might be broadcast to the world, but it might not be who they really are. But for the second time today, I keep my mouth shut. That advice can come later if needed. Right now I don’t exactly know if these boys have anything to hide like I do, like Reiner and Bert do.

“All right,” Connie says. “Enough of this. It’s time to take these boys in to lay down some tracks. You guys, ready?”

My eyes instantly dart to Jean and they reach him just in time for me to notice that he’s swallowing hard. He has every right to be nervous. All though I know that Connie wouldn’t turn them away for a couple of rookie mistakes. He’s too invested now. If Connie doesn’t end up adding them to the label, I’ll be surprised.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more ready for anything in my entire life actually,” Eren says, tossing an arm around Jean’s shoulders. “Come on, man. It’s going to be great.”

Jean seems to relax at his friend’s words and gives him a firm nod before wrapping his arm around Eren in return as we start back down the hall. “I hope you’re right. I’ll kick your ass if it isn’t.”

***

It turns out, Jean had nothing to be worried about. He and Eren were naturals in the booth. We were just about to have them test another song when the door to the studio slams open. I turn my eyes away from Jean and his fingers working relentlessly against his bass to see that Armin has come in.

“Is that them?” he asks excitedly.

The thing about Armin is that he’s been with the label for awhile. He was with another band when he first started and things didn’t end so well for them. We ended up liking Armin so much that we kept him around. We use him as sub when Thomas can’t do a show, Levi and the others do too. He’s a great guy and an excellent drummer. He really deserves a permanent band.

I grin at Armin as he comes over to stand next to me and I notice that he’s got a bandage wrapped around his lower arm. “Dude, did you get _another_ tattoo?”

Armin looks down at the bandage tapped securely to his arm, almost like he forgot. I can’t believe it sometimes. He’s already got an intricate sleeve up and down his right arm and he’s slowly been working on the other one. If you just looked at Armin Arlert you would probably never imagine the cute, little, innocent looking blonde would be so inked up.

“Oh yeah! Got it last night!” he says excitedly. “It’s really going to go well with the rest of my sleeve. I can’t wait to show you guys.”

“You’re going to be covered at this point,” I say with a grin. “But I guess that’s what you’re going for, isn’t it?”

“Exactly,” Armin replies. “But enough about my ink. Is that them? The band I’m testing with?”

I nod, allowing my eyes to drift back to Jean for a few seconds before looking back at Armin. “Yeah. That’s them. Pretty great, aren’t they?”

“They’re incredible! How did Connie find them?”

“A little help from Mikasa and some word on the street. We went and checked them out last night and Connie extended them the money to stay awhile longer so we could get them in the studio. They don’t have a drummer so Connie thought it would be perfect to let you test with them,” I say.

“I love their sound already. Are they guys cool?”

“They’re great. Jean’s been kind of quiet but he’s pretty much just in awe of the entire thing. Eren’s been more vocal about it. But I like them. I really think they’ll be a good fit for the label. I think you’ll get along with them too.”

“I hope so. Ever since the band broke up I’ve been wondering if I’m ever going to find the right fit,” Armin mutters, shoving his drumsticks into his back pocket.

I reach my arm out and give him a pat on the back. I know that when Armin’s band split it pretty much devastated him. He almost didn’t take our offer to stay on the label. But after I sat him down and gave him a talk, he decided to stay. I still don’t understand how I can make everyone else feel good about themselves but I still have the hardest time doing the same thing for me. I guess that’s something to worry about another time.

“Like I told you, Armin,” I say quietly as the music Eren and Jean were producing starts to fade. “You’re talented. You’re going to find something. I think _Potential Disaster_ really might be the thing for you. I hope me and Connie are right.”

Armin grins at me and his melancholy look is gone in an instant. “Thanks, Marco,” he tells me. “Sometimes I just feel like I’m just in the background.  I know you guys like to include me, but I still feel left out sometimes.”

I can understand where Armin is coming from. The bands in the studio are really tight knit and I can see why Armin would feel like he was intruding when he comes and hangs out with all of us. But I don’t want that for him. Armin is a good friend. I want him to be able to feel like he’s a part of something. I know that feeling like I’m constantly a piece of something that’s bigger than myself has really done wonders for me. I can’t imagine having that feeling taken away from me.

“I know, Armin,” I tell him. “But we do love you here. We want you to feel like you’re part of the label because you are.”

“Thanks,” Armin says with a soft smile.

I’m about to open my mouth to respond, but Connie beats me to it. “Arlert! Get your ass over here and meet Jean and Eren!”

Armin doesn’t hesitate to bound over to the two boys that have come out of the sound booth to greet them. Armin shakes their hands, trying his best to contain his excitement. I can’t help but smile to myself. It’s only been a few minutes and they already seem to be hitting it off. I plop down in the chair next to Connie while Armin listens over a few tracks and mimics the drumming sounds from the Band in a Box with ease. Like I said, Armin is a master with the drums. I’m not surprised that he catches on quickly.

Once they’re finished making a few test runs, I thought it would be Eren, but it’s Jean that exclaims he wants Armin in the band. Eren agrees wholeheartedly. And I can’t help but feel anything but happiness swell within me for Armin. The smile on his face is enough to make me happy for the rest of the day.

Connie doesn’t waste time. He shoos the three of them out of the room and turns around in his chair to face me. “What do you think?”

And I know what he’s asking. He’s making sure that I’m still on board with signing them. “I say do it,” I tell him. “I know you want to and they’re great. I know that they’ll fit in well here and on top of that, it helps Armin. I don’t see a way that we can lose here.”

“I was hoping that you were going to say that,” Connie says. “All right. I’m going to go talk business with them for a bit. Work on the vocals for “ _Shut Your Mouth_ ” while I’m gone. We’ll lay it when I’m done.”

“I thought you wanted to run “ _Bitter Whispers_ ” again,” I say. I’m teasing. I know the run we did of that one when Jean got there will be the one that we’ll keep.

“Yeah fucking right,” Connie says as he steps out of the door. “We’re not going to get any better than we did when that Jean kid came in here.”

I feel my cheeks flush red at the very idea that Connie might have even noticed that I’ve been watching Jean closely. But I guess I haven’t really been discrete about it. “That had nothing to do with it,” I mutter.

“Contrary to popular opinion, Bodt, I’m not an idiot,” Connie says and with that he slams the door behind him.

***

It feels like it forever that I’m alone in there. I know that they boys probably had to call whatever equivalent that they have to an agent, they have to go over their terms and conditions and all kinds of stuff. I remember the process all too well. It can be long and tedious but worth it in the end.

I do work on the vocals for “ _Shut Your Mouth_ ”.  It’s a slower song about a break-up that I went through. It was all of the things that I wanted to say that I never had the courage to. I’m really excited to share it with people. I’m actually so excited for the entire new album. I really hope the fans will love it as much as all of us do.

I’m about to run the song again when I hear a loud scream from down the hall. I know the minute that I hear it, that it’s coming from Jean and Eren. I stick my head out of the door and I notice that Mikasa had done the same from her room not far down the hall.

“I think that Titan Records just signed their newest band,” she says with a grin.

A smile works its way onto my face too and I step out of the room just in time to see Jean, Eren, and Armin running out of Connie’s office at the end of the hallway.

“WE GOT SIGNED. WE GOT SIGNED!” Jean’s shouting and the sound coming out of Eren’s mouth isn’t quite human. They stop running and Eren pulls his friend into a hug and I can tell they’re saying something to each other that I can’t quite make out. That’s okay. It’s probably not for my ears anyway.

“This calls for a celebration, boys!” Connie says. He pauses. “And girls! Party at my house tonight and I fully expect Jean and Eren to be there.”

“What? Us? Really?” Jean asks, breaking his hug with Eren to look at Connie. “We just joined. Are you sure?”

“Hell yeah I’m sure. What better way to meet the rest of the label, because I’m sure as hell inviting them,” Connie says. “I think you might have to convince Marco to come though. He hates going out.”

The minute that I realize that Jean will be there, no one has to tell me twice. The desire to get to know him has not faded and now that they’re on the label, I’m going to have the chance. I grin at Connie, Eren, and Jean before they have the chance to say anything else.

“You don’t have to convince me of anything,” I tell them. “I’ll be there.”


	3. Chapter Three

Standing in front of the door to Connie’s place, I’m starting to wonder if I should have agreed to come. I usually like parties with the label. Tonight it feels different. I guess I might be having second thoughts because Jean and Eren are going to be there. I know that’s stupid. Jean is practically the reason that I agreed to this. It wasn’t to prove Connie wrong. It was the possibility that I might get to talk to Jean and Eren more tonight. I can’t just back out now. Before I lose my nerve, I raise my fist and bang on the door, just hard enough that it can be heard over the muted thumping of a bass line that’s been pounding against  my eardrums since the moment I pulled up.

I don’t hear any movement from inside the house. There’s only  obnoxious laughter and the sound of music I’m pretty sure is Drake’s new album playing on the other side of the door. I’m starting to think that no one is coming to the door. I’ve almost convinced myself to leave rather than knock again when the door swings open. I’m expecting Connie to be on the other side, but it’s not.

“I’ll be damned,” Levi says, puffing a cloud of cigarette smoke into the night air. “Connie said you were coming, but I told him I wasn’t going to believe it until you actually showed.” He turns and calls back into the house, “Marco’s here!”

I’m not sure how Levi managed to walk to the door. He’s wearing leather pants so tight that I’m positive he can’t have any underwear on underneath them. And despite the weather in Chicago being the coldest that it’s been all year, Levi’s wearing nothing but a red tank top that clings to him almost as much as his pants do. It’s part of his look, I guess. His tight clothes go well with his scattered tattoos and piercings. He’s had the snakebites jutting from his lips from the moment I met him, but the two earrings hanging from his right ear and the nose ring have all been acquired since I’ve known him.

“You owe me twenty!” someone says from the couch as I step inside. Reiner. He’s sitting with a the arm he’s got inked up with a sleeve of tour tattoos draped around Bert’s shoulder, a drink in his free hand. He turns to face me, giving me a nod as a greeting. “Knew you’d show up.”

“Thanks,” I reply, shrugging off my jacket and hanging it up by the door. “Glad someone here had faith in me. I’m not as antisocial as everyone likes to think I am.”

“Connie said you’d come too,” says Levi. He sits down in the chair across from Reiner and Bert and picks up a drink that was resting on the coffee table. “Though the idiot wouldn’t bet on it.”

“Where is Connie, anyway?”

“Either shitting or shoving his tongue down Sasha’s throat,” Levi deadpans, taking a swig from his cup. “The last time I checked, it was the latter. I thought they were going to end up fucking on the kitchen counter.”

“Gross.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure there’s not a spot in this house that one of their bare asses hasn’t touched. I’d get used to that idea,” Levi tells me.

I know he’s right. I just don’t want to think about it in the interest of being able to touch anything without dousing it in Lysol first. My eyes to scan the room for the others. Thomas and Franz are standing by the stereo. Mikasa and Petra are sitting on the other couch. Petra has a guitar nestled on her lap, and Mikasa is scribbling something onto what looks like a napkin. Inspiration never really takes a break, I guess. I don’t see Annie, but I assume she’s here, maybe getting a drink. Erwin and Hanji are in the dining room, having turned an otherwise abandoned game of beer pong into a sudden death match. A ping-pong ball flies across the room and whacks Erwin in the face, and not long after, Hanji’s mad laugh echoes in the tall rafters. They must be winning. And I have yet to spot Eren and Jean.

My stomach works itself into knots. What if they decided not to show up? I can’t say that coming was for nothing, because I get to see my friends, but the entire reason I agreed to dragging my ass to Connie’s tonight was to try and get to know Jean and Eren. A ridiculous reason to come to a party where I’m guaranteed to be surrounded by people that love me, I tell myself, shaking my head. If Potential Disaster decides not to show up, I won’t complain. Not much, anyway.

“Who are you looking for?” a soft voice asks from behind me.

I jump roughly three feet into the air. Annie crept up on me. I still don’t understand how she’s so quiet. Her hair is cut in a short bob that frames her face, and it's colored with blue streaks this week. Her shirt tonight is cut low. I can see the top of a microphone tattoo peeking out over the ridge of her collarbone. Her appearance is always so loud and she goes on stage and makes so much incredible noise, but when she’s not in front of a crowd she’s quiet and intimidating. I think it might all be an act, although that’s a dangerous assumption to make. She’s actually really nice, unless you get on her bad side. I’m fortunate enough to have never had Annie angry at me.

“I…hey, Annie,” I mutter, stumbling over my words. “I was just seeing who was here. Not looking for anyone special.”

Smooth, Marco.

Annie raises an eyebrow. She’s clearly curious, but she doesn’t ask.

“Right,” she mutters, taking a sip from her drink. “I’m not buying that for a minute. I’m sure you’re at least looking for Connie.”

I shake my head. “No. Not after what Levi said he saw in the kitchen. I prefer my mind un-scarred. I’m not going to look for Connie. He can find me.”

“Oh, he will. Connie’s had a few and he’s already turning into a den mother,” Annie tells me. “I’m surprised that Sasha was able to coax him into hiding at all. He was already on Hanji about not putting Erwin in the hospital again.”

“I don’t think anyone will ever let Hanji get that drunk again. The only time they’ve gotten close is when _The Sun Also Rises_ went on their last tour and Hanji downed that whole bottle of Captain, climbed on top of the bus, took off all their clothes and started singing Taylor Swift.”

“Levi’s got it on video,” Annie nods. “I don’t think he’s ever been more proud of something he recorded.”

“Don’t remind me. He shows me every time he remembers that he has it,” I say laugh. “That’s more of Hanji than I ever needed to see.”

“Excuse you!” Hanji calls from the dining room, not even bothering to look as they toss another ping pong ball in Erwin’s direction. “I happen to be very hot!”

“That doesn’t mean we all want to see your naked ass, Hanji,” Annie snaps back. “I better go keep an eye on them for Connie. If he finds out I didn’t’ watch them closely he might kick me off the label.”

“I don’t know if I would go that far,” I tell her. “He’d probably yell at you though. That’s not something I’d want.”

“You’re right. I don’t want to face the wrath of Connie Springer.” She rolls her eyes and heads back into the dining room.

I breathe out a sigh of relief as Annie walks away. It’s not that I don’t like talking to her. More that I was too busy looking for Jean and Eren to come in. I still am. I want to catch them the minute they walk in the door. I know it’s really not, but I still feel like it’s my duty to show them the ropes a bit. They really don’t know what to expect, and while I’m not going to lay it all on them at once, I can at least show the how to navigate one of our parties.

Before the label got too big, our parties used to be a little bit wilder. That’s not to say that they still don’t get crazy, because they can, but we have to be more careful. When the bands started to make names for themselves, we had to tone down our get-togethers because before we know it, the cameras inevitably showed up. It probably won’t be long before people catch wind of the gathering tonight. Hopefully Eren and Jean show up before the hoard does.

Almost on cue, there’s a knock on the door, and Levi rises to get it, but I rush over to him to try and stop him. “No,” I tell him. “I’ve got this one. It’s the new guys. I want to show them around a bit, introduce them to everyone.”

“Of course you do,” Levi says, knocking back another swig of his drink. “What was it that Connie said about you?”

“Marco doesn’t do gross things. He’s made of seventy degree weather, rainbows, and kittens,” Connie recites, stumbling into view. “And it’s fucking true. I cut the bitch open once to check.”

I roll my eyes. It’s not the first time I’ve heard some variation of this. He considers it a compliment. I usually don’t know whether to accept it or flip him off. This time I choose to ignore it, opting instead to head for the door. Connie mumbles something about going to check on Hanji and disappears into the dining room. Almost instantly, I hear him yelling at Hanji to stop throwing balls at Erwin’s face. I smile to myself as I pull open the door to find Jean and Eren standing there.

Eren’s wearing skinny jeans and a t-shirt that looks like he pulled it straight from his parents’ attic. He tells me hello and works his way past me, starting to introduce himself to Levi. I have to admit, I’m impressed but not surprised by Eren’s ability to be sociable. More envious than anything else, really. I wish I could be that way more often.

I turn away from Eren chatting away with Levi and notice that Jean’s still standing in the doorway with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. He’s got a beanie pulled on, hiding his undercut and a tight fitting zip-up jacket hastily thrown over a _A Mutual Addiction_ t-shirt. He looks good. Part of me wants to tell him that. The part of me that fears looking like an idiot and scaring him off holds my tongue.

“You can come in, you know,” I tell him, using my hand to usher him inside.

“Yeah, but I didn’t want to be an ass like Eren and invite myself in,” he grimaces, glancing around at the room.

His eyes grow wider, and I guess I can understand why. Being thrown into an environment like this can be overwhelming under normal circumstances, but Jean’s suddenly at a party filled with people he and Eren have both claimed as inspiration. I have the suspicion that, unlike Jean, I would completely shut down if I were in his shoes. He’s already doing better than I would.

I reach up a hand and pat him on the shoulder. I’m not sure if this is the fight thing to do, but Connie always does it to me when I’m having a moment and it seems to help. Jean looks over at me and gives me a crooked little half-smile.

“Don’t worry,” I tell him. “Everyone here is really cool. You’ll be fine.”

“I know,” he whispers, eyes sweeping the place just like they had back at the studio early today. “It’s just... for fuck’s sake. My band got signed and I’m standing here talking to Marco Bodt while my best friend chats up Levi Ackerman. We’re in Connie Springer’s house. I know it’s real, it just feels like I’m going to wake up any minute.”

“Like I said, that feeling never really goes away. You just sort of get used to it,” I shrug. “You just sort of accept that you’re literally living the dream.”

I stop myself from adding _and sometimes a nightmare._ He doesn’t need to know about the dark crevices of the industry, the sneaking double lives, the vices that lurk in the shadows. Not yet, anyway.

“I guess I never imagined living out my wildest dream would make me feel like I was still in it,” Jean admits as he reaches up to scratch the back of his head. “If it never stops feeling surreal, how to you even take it all in.”

“Sometimes it’s all a blur,” I admit, thinking back to some shows on my first tour with the band and how I want to remember every single moment, but some of them are faded and obscured, like dreams I had years ago. “Other times it’s easier to grab onto the things that are happening, and those memories are easy to hold onto. I wish I could promise that you’ll remember everything that happens on every stage you play, that every fan just isn’t a passing face that you may or may not forget, but I can’t. You have to decide which moments are worth savoring. So much happens in this business, you can’t keep a grip on everything.”

Jean nods, glancing down at the ground. “I think I understand.”

“Don’t let anything I’m saying scare you off,” I add. “You learn to deal with everything as it comes your way. It can be a little overwhelming. Just know that I’ve been in your shoes and if you and Eren need anything, I’m here to help.”

“That’s really good to know,” Jean says his voice a soft whisper.

I’m about to say something else when an arm drapes around my shoulder and my nose is attacked with the scent of alcohol tainted breath. “Bodt! There’s my fucking treasure. How’s it goin’?”

Jean laughs, and I shake my head. Without even turning to look, I know that it’s Connie. Sasha must have gotten tired of putting up with him and sent him to find me for a few minutes.

“I was getting ready to take Jean around and let him meet everybody,” I tell Connie, giving in and wrapping an arm around his shoulder in turn. “I would say you should come too, but I think you might need to sit down.”

“No, no,” Connie insists. He’s shaking his head hard and he’s maybe one drink away from starting to slur his words. “I can’t sit down. I’ve got all you idiots to look out for. I already had to stop Hanji from killing Erwin. It’s gonna be a long night. I don’t have time to sit down.”

“You’re such a mom,” I snort. I pat him on the back before I pull my arm from around him. I watch as he stumbles a little, using my shoulder as support to stay standing.

“Fuck you, Bodt,” Connie grins. “I just give a damn about all of you guys. Goes for the newbies too. Don’t get too shitfaced or you’ll never hear the end of it.”

The last part is directed at Jean, who laughs again. “Nah. Not tonight. I want to remember tonight.”

He must still be thinking about what I said. That’s a good thing. I’m glad to know that he probably won’t be brushing off the advice that I give him.

“Suit yourself,” Connie shrugs. “Don’t overwhelm him, Marco. Ease him into it, ya know?”

And once again, anything I have to say is lost because Connie presses his lips to my cheek, shoots a smile at Jean and skips away, leaving me a little speechless.

“He’s a…a character,” Jean finally says, breaking the silence between the two of us.

“No. He’s a dumbass,” I grin. “But he’s pretty much _my_ dumbass, so I have to put up with him.”

“That basically sums up my relationship with Eren,” Jean nods. “He’s a fucking idiot, but I really don’t know where I’d be without him.”

I know how he feels. Connie and I probably haven’t known each other as long as Jean and Eren have, but we did make it big together, and Connie has been there for me through everything. I don’t know if I would be able to handle the spotlight the way that I do now if it weren’t for him. He does most of the talking in the interviews, makes sure I’m comfortable on stage. Connie has done everything in his power to make sure I can live out my dream. Some days I wonder if I’ll ever be able to repay him. Other days, I know I won’t.

Connie and I have been through hell and high water together. I know that there will be more obstacles to face in the future, but we’ve proven time and time again that we’re strong enough to survive whatever fate might throw our way. I hope the same is true for Jean and Eren. I’m not too worried about them. If they’ve already stuck together this far, there’s a good chance that they can make it through the storm that’s coming for them.

“All right. Enough about our idiots. Are you ready to meet everybody?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Jean replies.

It’s my turn to laugh as Jean swallows hard and his eyes start darting around again. I know that I can’t stop him from being nervous, but I wish that I could. He has no reason to be on edge, but I know that nothing I can say will convince him otherwise.

I turn to face the small group that’s gathered behind me. Eren’s already moved on and I can see out of the corner of my eye that he’s talking to Thomas and Franz. I can already tell that Eren probably isn’t going to have any trouble living two lives. He can go from one mood to another in the blink of an eye. He’s going to have this entire lifestyle mastered before he even really knows what he has to do.

“Reiner, Bert, Levi, this is Jean Kirschtein,” I tell them. “You already met Eren. This is the other mastermind behind _Potential Disaster._ ”

Levi takes another swig of his drink before extending a hand in Jean’s direction. “I wish I could say that I’ve listened to your demos, but I haven’t. If Connie signed you, though, I’m sure you’re fucking sweet. Welcome.”

“Thanks, man,” Jean says, shaking Levi’s hand. “It’s awesome to meet you. Eren and I love your stuff. We pretty much love everyone on the label if I’m going to be honest.”

He turns to Reiner and Bert. “We even saw _Vertigo_ when you played in Atlanta before you guys got signed.”

Reiner pulls his hand away from Bert’s to reach out and shake Jean’s. “You’re shitting me, right? Man, Atlanta was a bust, really. Didn’t get too much notice until we decided to come up here and Connie found us.”

“I think that’s what happened to all of us.” Levi leans back in his chair, swirling his drink around in his hand with a thoughtful purse of his lips.

“Bullshit,” says Reiner. “You had like three options open when Connie found your asses. You idiots could have been with practically anyone else and you went with Springer.”

“And on that note,” Bert says as he pushes himself up from the couch. “I’m going for a smoke. Wanna come, babe?”

“Nah,” he says, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and tossing them to Bert. “I’m going to stay in here.”

Bert nods as he catches the pack and grabs his jacket from the hook by the door, stepping outside. The minute the door swings open, I hear the inevitable chatter of the paparazzi gathered outside. Cameras are flashing, and I’m not surprised that Reiner didn’t decide to go. Sometimes flipping that switch between your personal life and your life in the spotlight can be exhausting. There are days I won’t even leave my apartment because I don’t want to bother with it.

Jean’s confused. I can see it in the slow trace of his eyes between Reiner and the door, in the little furrow between his eyebrows. He probably noticed them sitting close to each other and holding hands from the moment that he walked through the door, too polite to speak on it directly. He doesn’t get it yet. No one has told him that in this business, who you really are is the only secret that you have and it’s the only one that you don’t really want to keep.  

“I should probably get ready to leave, anyway,” Reiner says. “It’s my turn to leave early.”

“You mean you’re not leaving together?” Jean blurts out. I knew that a question along those lines was going to come out eventually. I’m just surprised that it came out so quickly.

Reiner laughs. “That’s right, you don’t know yet. Nah, kid. We’re not leaving together. Especially not when there are cameras out there.”

Jean frowns as Reiner gets up and heads towards the bathroom. I’m not going to be able to get out of explaining this. I want to try and keep it as simple as possible, not in a frame of mind to discourage him on the first night. They just got signed. I hate that I couldn’t keep both of them from learning about the more unpleasant sides of this business tonight. They deserved at least one night of easy happiness, but I should have known that one of them would pick up on it, especially with Reiner and Bert here.

“Might as well tell him, Marco,” Levi says, getting up from his seat. “I’m going to get another drink.”

As soon as Levi disappears into the kitchen, Jean turns to face me. “What are they talking about? Might as well tell me what?”

I take a deep breath, trying to find the words to explain without giving too much away. Jean doesn’t have to know that there’s a switch you have to turn on and off depending on what company you keep. He just needs to know that there are downsides to this business. There are things that I’m sure that no one has told him before. He doesn’t know anyone else well enough, and Mikasa has enough discretion to not mention those on the label who have to hide who thereally are.

“You know how I said that it never really stops feeling like a dream? That wasn’t exactly the truth. Sometimes it can feel more like you’re trapped in a nightmare,” I explain. “Everyone on this label is two different people. There’s who they are when they’re alone or with the rest of us, and there’s who they are for the public eye.”

“I don’t understand,” Jean mutters, sitting down where Levi was only moments ago. “Why do you guys pretend to be someone that you’re not?”

“Because we have to.” I sit down in Bert’s old seat and glance over at him. “Trust me. It’s not our choice, or even Connie’s. It’s our PR team. They decide what’s best for the public to know and what isn’t.”

“So Reiner and Bert?”

“Are just friends as far as the fan base knows,” I answer. “And Hanji’s a girl and not genderfluid. There’s a lot of secrets here. I’m sure you and Eren will only add to the pile. There’s no denying it. No matter who you are or what you are, there’s something about you that isn’t streamlined for mass consumption, someone else they’ll want you to be. That’s the dark side, Jean. You have to go into this realizing that to the rest of the world, you’re not a person. You’re a product. And you’re going to be marketed like one.“

“So basically what you’re saying is, there’s no way to get around living a double life,” Jean says. His scrubs his hands down the side of his face, eyes hollow and weary, and I hear him sigh even over the music. This must be overwhelming for him. I hate that he had to find out so soon.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” I nod, something heavy in my chest. “I know it’s a lot to take in, but you learn to deal with it. There are prices you have to pay in this business. You have to decide which ones are worth it.”

“Not even twenty four hours in and it’s already nothing like I expected,” he laughs, no real amusement in it. Just sadness, fatigue.

“Nothing ever is.”

I expected everything would be fun and easy. I thought it would be something idealistic, moving souls and making a difference. I didn’t sign up for the politics. When everyone knows your name, it’s hard to keep secrets, but you do it anyway so you can keep your job. Simple as that. It’s stressful at times, and more than that, it’s scary. There’s always that moment of terror when you look in the mirror and wonder who’s looking back at you. But for all of that, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

“But you know what?” I say when Jean doesn’t respond. “I haven’t paid for anything in this business that wasn’t worth it in the end.”

“I hope that I can say the same thing if Eren, Armin, and I ever get where you are,” Jean says.

As night turns into early morning, we switch over from blaring music and drinking games to dragging out some of Connie’s spare guitars. It isn’t long before we’ve improvised some tune all our own, and what started as harmonizing quickly turns to something that sounds like bad _American Idol_ audition. From the corner of my eye, I spot Jean sitting close to Eren. It’s obvious that he feels more comfortable hiding in his friend’s shadow then letting his own light shine through. Slowly, a smile works its way across his face.

He hopes it’ll be worth it.

“I hope so too,” I whisper under the jumbled sounds of my drunk friends attempting to sing.

His smile’s too pretty for him to lose it yet.


	4. Chapter 4

Finishing an album is always a bittersweet thing. On one hand, all of our hard work is finally paying off and we can share out sweat, blood, and tears with our fans. On the other, it always leaves me feeling a bit empty. I never know what to do with myself once we're done recording, and we've been finished with that for a couple of months now. The last day of vocals on the record was the day that Jean and Eren got signed. Ever since then, we've been waiting for the editing to be finished. It won't be long now until the album is ready to go; it's already up for pre-order on iTunes. The fans are getting impatient, and it's all I can do to keep from leaking the album myself. I haven't ever been so proud of something that we have done before.

Despite that, I've already started hanging around the studio again, and I know that I have no real reason to. Technically, I'm supposed to be taking a break. We have a lot of stuff coming up, interviews and tour dates approaching, and I should be taking this chance to rest up. I've been putting so much energy into the album the past few months, to the point that Connie insisted I take a breather before doing anything else, but that hasn't stopped me. I can't stay away from the studio for too long, and Connie should know better than anyone that I can't stop the inspiration. Even though we just finished a record, my mind is already reeling with possibilities for another. I never stop thinking about our music.

I'm hiding away in one of the empty rooms of the studio today, hoping that Connie won't find his way in here and discover that I'm not back at my apartment. There hasn't been a day that I haven't shown up since Jean and Eren were signed. I was here for helping them pick which songs were best to put on their EP, and I was in the studio with Connie every day that they were recording. I wanted to be here to try and help if I could. Jean and Eren seemed to appreciate it, but Connie seemed to scold me every chance that he could get. I laughed. He knows that once I set my mind to something, there's no stopping me. I’ve made it my mission to mentor Jean and Eren as best as I can. I know that they have each other, but that might not be enough. If I hadn't had someone like Connie, somewhat of an expert on the business that we were getting into, I would have been completely done for. I want Jean and Eren to be successful. I might not be able to ensure that, but I can sure as hell try.

Jean and Eren aren't here today, but I have a bad habit of coming in to the studio to work on songs. I find that I usually work better here than anywhere else. It might be because I'm surrounded by people that I care about, people who can offer insight when I need it. I feel at home here. I'd probably live in the studio if I thought that I could get away with it. Connie would personally have my ass kicked out, however, so I haven't bothered to try it, although I’ve been known to spend nights on the couch in the lounge get woken up by a very irritated Connie the next morning.

Thankfully, Connie hasn't seemed to notice that I'm here today.  He’d probably pester me until I had no other choice than to trudge back to my apartment if he had. I'm about to put my pen to paper again when the door to the room I'm occupying swings open.

“Hey, yo, Bodt. Listen up.”

Speak of the Devil.

I sigh, leaning back in my chair. “How did you know I was here?”

“Like I've said before, I'm not as stupid as people make me out to be,” Connie replies, plopping down in the chair next to the table I'm working at. “You were either gonna be here workin' your whole damn life away, or helping Jean and Eren move into their apartment.”

“Oh yeah. I had almost forgotten about that.”

“How in the hell could ya forget? The idiots went back to Maine to pack up their shit like a week ago!” Connie exclaims.

I roll my eyes. “How many times are we going to have to correct you until you remember that they're from Georgia and not some, and I quote, 'hick-ass town in Maine'?”

Connie just laughs, shrugging. “What difference does it make? They're here, and they're pretty great too. I don't care if they climbed out of the ninth circle of hell.”

“Jean would probably tell you that's exactly where Eren came from,” I snort. I close my notebook, apprehensive. I know that Connie is here for a reason, and I'm probably not going to get any work done for awhile.

“You're probably right about that,” Connie says. “All right. I didn't come here to talk about those losers. I came to warn you.”

The hand that’s been fiddling with my pen stills. “Warn me?”

“Yeah,” he nods, rubbing a hand across the back of his head. “We're going to be on the _Christa Lenz Show_ next week. Interview followed by a performance of 'Shut Your Mouth'. Do ya think you can handle that?”

I let out a long sigh. It was only a matter of time before this started. The album is going to be out in couple of weeks. I should have been more prepared to hear this kind of news. “Yeah. I've got this.”

I don’t. I’ve never been good with interviews. When we first started doing them, Connie had to coach me for days before I was ready. I guess now he trusts my judgment, thinks that I’m capable of doing it on my own.

So much for his misplaced faith in me.

I fumble over my words, I don’t look directly at the camera, and when I do manage to get more than a sentence to come out of my mouth, it usually doesn’t hold any weight and doesn’t really answer the question that we’ve been asked.

“This is our first time on her show, y’know,” Connie reminds me. He leans forward and rests a hand on my shoulder. “I know how you are with new people. Are you sure?”

I nod. I know I'm not the greatest when it comes to meeting strangers and talking about my work to a live studio audience full of people that may or may not be fans, but it’s not as though I have a choice. This is the business. This is the territory. You promote, or you fade out.. “Yeah.  Crista Lenz is the biggest name in talk shows right now. I won't screw this up for us.”

Connie gives me an optimistic half-smile before patting me a little too hard on the shoulder. “That's my boy, Bodt. You've got this. Remember how much better you did last time we had all these interviews? I know you can do it again. You just gotta remember not to worry about those people out there that are watching that might not be fans. Just keep reminding yourself who these talk shows are really for.”

I nod, feeling the corner of my lips twitch upwards into a smile. “Thanks, Connie. I’ll try to remember. Thanks for always keeping things in perspective for me.”

“That's what I'm here for. To deliver unpleasant news and make sure your ass keeps on smiling.”

“I wasn't aware that my butt could show emotion, but thanks for that.”

“You're such a smartass sometimes, you know that?”

“Are you really surprised?” I scoff. “My best friends are you and Levi Ackerman. Would you expect anything else out of me?”

“I'd actually be more shocked if you were still the little lamb we picked up in that bar all those years ago,” Connie admits. “I've seen you come so far, man. I'm proud of you.”

This time, I feel my cheeks heat up at Connie's compliment. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's because even after all this time, I still can't take one properly. Even getting kind words from the fans gets me flustered sometimes. I'm a mess, but thankfully I have people that know how to deal with me and love me anyway.

“Thanks,” I mutter, my gaze resting anywhere but on Connie.

“I can still get you flustered, Bodt. My favorite part of the day,” Connie says. “Why don't you stop working for two damn seconds and go see how the newbies are faring getting into their new place?”

I knew that a comment about work was coming. I wasn't going to get out of that so easily just because he was the bearer of bad news. Connie says that one of these days that I'm going to work myself to death. I figure that would be a good way to go, but I won't argue. Not today.

“Fine, you win,” I say, putting my notebook into my backpack and pushing the chair away from the table. “I'll go check on Jean and Eren. I think I still have Jean's text with the address.”

“If you don't, I do.” He lifts his feet from the floor and plops them on the table where I was just working, stretching his legs out before me. “Gotta keep track of my kiddos.”

“I'm sure we all appreciate it, _Mom_.”

“Hey. You can't speak for everyone on the label! I know for a fact that I'm not Reiner and Bert's mom. That's Annie.”

“True, but you're the Big Mama, the Head Honcho,” I insist. “Annie might be there, but no one comes close to you.”

“Besides, I'm not a regular mom like Annie. I'm a cool mom,” Connie adds.

“And on that note, I'll be leaving.”

“I'm serious! I'm the coolest mom ever!” Connie calls after me as I fling open the door and start my way down the hall.

“Just keep telling yourself that, Springer!”

“I will! It's what helps me sleep at night!”

“I'm sure Sasha would love to hear that.” I pause, turning around to face Connie before I push open the door. “I'll see you later, man.”

I hear Connie say goodbye in return as I walk out of the door into the cool Chicago air, pulling my phone from my pocket and opening my text thread with Jean. Thankfully, I hardly ever delete text messages unless they’re getting on my nerves or I said something embarrassing that I can’t stand to look at anymore.

It doesn't take long to find the complex that Jean and Eren are moving into. There's a tiny U-Haul out front, and I can hear Jean yelling at Eren from the end of the block.

“Pivot!” Feet scuffling on pavement, pitiful groaning.

“What the hell does that even mean?!”

A worrying _thud,_ a yelp of pain. “You're fucking impossible!”

“Jean, I don't think we can do this alone. We should have gotten some of the guys to come over and help us out.”

It takes everything in me to stifle my laughter as I approach the moving truck. “I think you two might need to take a break.”

Jean's head jerks around when I speak, angry scowl dissolving into a grin. “Thank God someone else is here. If I had to spend one more minute alone with Jaeger we might have ended up on the ID channel.”

A noise of disgust leaves Eren's lips, and I bite back a snicker. “Just how do you two plan on living together?”

“It's not like we're going to be in a dorm room or something,” Jean says, lowering his side of the couch onto the ground. Eren follows suit, nearly dropping his end on his foot in the process.

“You could have warned me, asshole,” Eren snaps. “You better be glad that missed my foot.”

“What would you have done about it, Jaeger? Kick me out of the band?”

“You're such a dick.”

“I know. Thanks for reminding me,” Jean replies without missing a beat. “Anyway, like I was saying. It's not like we're going to be shoved together in one space all of the time. If we had gone to college there's no way we could have been roommates. We would have killed each other.”

“And I don't know who would have snapped first,” Eren chimes in, rubbing at his shoulder, probably sore from all the lifting.

“It could have gone either way, really. I just think yours would have been more impulsive and mine would have been premeditated.”

“This is our friendship. Yelling and discussing how we would kill each other.”

“At least now I know what to expect,” Jean says. “Now shut up and let's get this couch into the apartment before I lose my damn mind.”

“I think that it would do you both some good to sit down and take a breather.”

I'm probably right, too. Jean looks about one smart comment from Eren away from punching the next person who looks at him wrong. Eren doesn't look much better.

“That's the problem. We don't have anywhere to sit until we get the couch inside,” Eren explains as he plops down on it despite the fact that it's in the middle of the sidewalk.

Jean rolls his eyes at his friend, but keeps his mouth shut. I shake my head.

“Well, I can help with the couch if you want,” I offer. “That way you two can at least rest for awhile.”

“God bless you, Marco Bodt,” Eren groans, getting back to his feet.

“I could fucking kiss you,” Jean adds.

My cheeks flare up at the comment. I know that he doesn't mean it, that it's just a figure of speech, but the idea is enough to make me blush like an idiot.

“Good to know my help is appreciated,” I mutter, swallowing hard. “Now come on. We’d better get this thing of the sidewalk before someone gets mad.”

With the three of us working together, we have the couch in the building and up the stairs in no time. As soon as we have it far enough into the living room to sit it down, Eren sprawls out across it before anyone else has the chance to take a seat.

“Asshole,” Jean mutters. He doesn't hesitate to lift up Eren's feet and take the seat where they had been resting. Eren takes the chance to kick off his shoes and extends his legs again, not seeming to care that his feet are resting on Jean's lap.

“Normally I'd tell you to move your nasty feet, but I'm too tired to argue,” Jean gripes. He leans back against the couch, eyes fluttering closed. “Thanks for your help, Marco. I don't think Eren and I could have done that on our own.”

“Don't mention it,” I shrug. When neither one of them respond, I take the chance to look around the place. It's nicer than my first apartment was, but in time, they'll probably find a better place. The paint on the walls of the small living room is peeling away, the laminate floor scuffed and rough with age, and despite the fact that the room is bare except for the couch and a couple of boxes that they managed to lug up on their own, the boys look like they belong in their grungy little apartment.

I'm about to say something, but I hear a snore and steady breathing coming from the couch. I push myself onto the tips of my toes to confirm what I already know. Jean and Eren are both dead asleep. I just grin and shake my head, heading to the door of their apartment and shutting it quietly behind of me.

* * *

“I can do this.”

Of course, the mirror that I keep repeating the phrase into isn't going to reassure me. I know for a fact that telling myself that I can do something doesn't necessarily mean that I can. This interview is huge, though, so I have to try everything that I can. I won't mess this up for the band. Connie, Thomas, Franz. They're all counting on me.

More than likely, I'm making a big deal out of nothing. I always have a minor freak out before we do one of these things. But it feels different this time. This is expected to be our biggest album with our largest tour yet, and this is a huge interview. I'm not scared of Christa Lenz. It's not even that I'm terrified of talking about our music or the new record. The thing that psychs me out the most about televised interviews and talk shows is that not everyone watching is going to be a fan. There are people in the audience that are groaning or rolling their eyes at everything that we say. I know that shouldn't bother me, but it makes me more anxious than I really care to admit.

In the greater scheme of things, I've never been good enough for anyone. The guys would probably be the only exception to this rule, and it took me a long time to convince myself that I actually was good enough for them. Sometimes I still doubt that. I’ll be sitting with them, having a drink or goofing around and dread will suddenly settle in the pits of my stomach, heavy as an anvil. Doubts will race through my mind and I’ll wonder why I ever thought I belonged with them in the first place.

And that happens with people that I love, my friends. It’s even worse with new people. There are people in that audience today that I’m making a first impression on. The very idea of that makes me feel like I’m going to throw up. It’s almost like nausea has made a home in the depths of my stomach. I don’t have the social skills to make people like me. I know that Connie thinks I’m charming, but I’m really not. I’m a mess and I can’t even talk to someone I don’t know without my hands shaking, and my voice cracking. I can barely look a stranger in the eye without my veins turning to ice and my heart thudding so hard in my chest that I think it’s going to break through my ribcage and fall to the floor.

I don’t even know why I’m nearly losing it over the taping. The show won’t be aired until later today. The only people that will see our performance before the air time is the small studio audience, and I won’t have to talk to any of them if they don’t want to talk to me. The only thing keeping me from losing my mind completely is knowing that there are some fans out there. I know that they will make me feel better after everything is said and done.

“I can do this,” I repeat to the mirror again.

Just as the words are leaving my mouth, the door swings open and Connie pops his head inside. “Bodt, I’ve got a surprise for ya.”

“Oh no.”

“That’s not how normal people respond to being told that they’re getting a surprise,” Connie frowns.

“Well, normal people don’t know _you_ , Springer. They don’t know what you’re capable of or what your idea of a surprise might be.”

“What? Do you think I’m going to drag a tiger into your dressing room or somethin’? I’m not that insane.” Stopping mid-thought, he leans against the doorframe, face splitting into a grin. “Except how fucking cool would that be?”

I can feel a migraine coming on. “You’re getting off track, and somehow only doing more to prove my point.”

“Oh right! Your surprise!”

Rather than saying anything more on the subject, Connie swings the door the rest of the way open and reveals that he’s not the only person standing behind it. Jean and Eren are there, waving at me and giving me stupid grins. Half of my nerves disappear. Being with the guys on stage helps, but knowing that Jean and Eren will be in the audience makes things even better.

“What are you two doing here?” I ask once the initial shock has passed.

“Connie invited us out,” Jean replies, stepping forward and pulling me into a hug. “Said he wanted us to get the feel for what one of these things might be like.”

I know that’s a lie. It’s just what Connie has told them. Connie knows that it’s not his place to explain to Jean and Eren that sometimes I can be a basket case when it comes to doing PR. And I’m thankful for that. I can’t believe that he dragged Jean and Eren out here just to make me feel better during an interview.

I wrap my arms around Jean and hug him in return. Jean’s hands settle on my back and his body presses close to mine, and a jolt of electricity spreads its way throughout my entire being, my heart hammering. I’m trying not to dwell on it for fear of what I know comes next, the falling and the fallout, and before I can let the feeling sink under my skin, Jean pulls away and puts a hand on my shoulder.

“I can’t believe you guys are playing this show. It’s one of the biggest talk shows out there,” Eren says, plopping down onto the couch by the door.

“Only fitting for one of the hottest bands out there,” Connie brags with a shit-eating grin.

“Shut the fuck up,” Jean laughs.

“You can tell me that when _your_ single debuts in the _Top Ten_.”

Jean looks like he’s going to snark back at him for a moment, but thinks better of it and waves Connie off with a grin and a good-natured, “Fair enough.”

“We’ll get there eventually,” says Eren.

“We’ll see about that, Jaeger. For now, focus on what’s going on right now. Try not to think about the bigger picture until you’re in it. Get it?” Connie says.

Both of the boys nod. Connie has a point. That’s something that I hadn’t thought to tell them. Thinking about what could be can make you think less about what you actually have going on. It can make you lazy and lackluster, and you’ll never get to the place you’re daydreaming about that way.

There’s a knock on the door, and Christa’s stage manager tells us that we have five minutes until our interview starts. That’s our cue to get in place backstage, and for Eren and Jean to get back in their seats. As soon as the boys disappear, the nervousness settles in my veins again. I can hear my heart beating in my ears even though it’s sitting somewhere around my stomach. My palms are coated with a thin layer of sweat, and I try to swallow but my mouth is so dry in spite of the two bottles of water I’ve chugged in the past hour.

Connie’s behind me as we wait in the shadows of the stage. Both of his hands are resting on my shoulders now, thumbs pressing hard into my shoulder blades, willing me to relax.

“You’ve got this, Bodt,” he whispers. “Just remember why we’re really here, okay?”

I nod my head, trying to keep my breathing even. The last thing I need is to walk out on stage an anxious mess. Christa would probably wonder why she even booked us in the first place. I can’t screw this up. If I screw up this interview, our entire reputation could go out the window. I know that our fans would never abandon us, but no one would ever want to have us on for an interview again. We wouldn’t be able to promote “ _Baldy Written_ ” properly and it would be all my fault. Despite Connie’s bragging back in the dressing room, I know that he knows this interview is a big deal for us.

What if I can’t do this? What if I open my mouth and nothing comes out? Worse, what if everything comes out? My eyes widen at the very thought. My breathing isnt even anymore. I’m taking crooked breaths trying to get my heart rate back to normal as my nerves claw at me like some kind of crazed monster.

I’m starting to wish for things that aren’t possible. I wish that I was back in the dressing room. I wish that I was wrapped back up in Jean’s arms because in that moment, I didn't’ feel nervous, I didn’t feel scared, I just felt at peace. I’d give anything to be back in that moment now.

“Here to talk about their new album “ _Badly Written and Randomly Enforced_ ”, please welcome Marco Bodt and Connie Springer from _A Mutual Addiction_!”

There’s a round of applause as Christa introduces us and Connie and I start walking out onto the stage. Some of the cheers get louder as we come into view and Connie starts to wave at the audience. I follow suit, even though I’m sure my waves are a bit more subdued than his. I know that not acknowledging the audience at all wouldn’t be a good idea. I’ve been stupid enough to make that mistake before. I’ve walked out onto stages with my head down, my hands shoved into my pockets and the backlash was something unimaginable. I was “ungrateful”, “rude”, and a million other adjectives that don’t even begin to describe me.

The clapping dies down as Connie and I take our seats on the couch across from Christa’s chair. She’s tiny and blonde, probably around our age, a couple of years older at the most. She flashes a bright, white smile at us before she starts speaking again. “Hello! Welcome to the show!”

“Thanks for having us, Christa,” Connie says with a smile that’s just as charming as the one that Christa gave us.

“How could I not?” she asks. “You’re one of the hottest bands in the country and “ _Shut Your Mouth_ ” has just ended its second week at number one on the _Billboard Hot One Hundred_ and its fourth week as the number one single on _iTunes_!”

There’s a cheer from the crowd again and I take a deep breath, trying to be as discreet about it as I can. I know that there are going to be questions coming my way any minute, and I have to be ready for them. I take a quick glance out at the crowd, spot Jean and Eren sitting front and center. They wave at me, large, over-the-top waves. I almost laugh, letting it collide with the backs of my teeth as I look back at Christa.

“So Marco, let me get this straight,” Christa says. “You’re the mastermind behind “ _Shut Your Mouth_ ”?”

I open my mouth to respond, and nothing comes out. I feel Connie nudge me in the side with his elbow. Still nothing. Breathe. In. Out. I snap my mouth shut and clear my throat.

“Sorry about that,” I cough, my own voice distorted through the loud, wet thumps of my heartbeat in my ears. “But yeah, I guess you could say that. I wrote it after my most recent break-up. It just wasn’t working out and we had to call it off. As you can see, it didn’t turn out so well.”

“Oh and can you give us any insight on who the song might be about?” Christa asks, leaning forward a bit in her seat.

“Ah, this one doesn’t kiss and tell,” Connie says as he slings an arm around my shoulder. “Do ya, Bodt?”

“I’m afraid he’s right,” I nod. I feel sick. “My lips are sealed.”

And they really are. Even if I _could_ talk about that relationship, I never would. No one needs to know about all the screaming, the fighting, the doors slamming. I can close my eyes and hear the shouts of, “You never gave a damn, did you?” ringing in my ears. He might as well have put my heart on the chopping block, the accusation me of not caring as effective a death sentence as any. I think it might have hurt less. I never even want to think about the way that relationship went down in a screaming blaze. It hurts enough just to sing “ _Shut Your Mouth_ ” over and over again, number one single, buy Marco Bodt’s bleeding heart on _iTunes_ for only $1.29. The last thing I need is to see the tiny details decorating the front page of _People_.

“That’s perfectly okay,” Christa says. “Changing the subject just slightly, what else can you tell us about the album?”

“Well,” Connie starts, and I almost let out a sigh of relief. I’m so glad that he takes the reins during these things. I can never find the strength to talk very much whenever there are cameras on me. I’ve gotten better since we first started, but I would still prefer for Connie to talk. He was made for this, for staring down a camera lens without a flinch, and I’m not inclined to try to take that from him. “This album is a little different from our previous ones. Our sound has grown and matured, and we really made the songs a bit more personal this time. Some of them give a little insight into what our lives are like in the spotlight, and others, like “ _Shut Your Mouth_ ”, give insight into our relationships. Our fans are important to us, so the way we see it, we can be a little more personal and allow our fans to get to know us just a little bit better.”

“That’s such a great way to look at things. Not all artists keep their fans’ interests at heart like that, especially when they rise to fame so quickly and stay at the top,” Christa smiles, bright and bubbly. “And for a band that came out of their own, small record company and grew into what you are today, I have to say that I’m impressed.”

“See I don’t get that,” I butt in, ignoring the look of surprise from Connie. This is something I feel strongly about, so I find it a little easier to talk without getting nervous. “I’ve never understood why some artists get put up on a pedestal and then treat their fans like garbage. Our fans... where would we even be without them? They’re the ones buying our music and coming to our concerts. They’re the ones that helped get us here.”

“So our music isn’t just for us,” says Connie, picking up where I left off. “The fans are what it’s all about. We want them to love what we put out as much as we do, and we’re really proud of “ _Badly Written_ ”. We can’t wait to share it with them!”

“Their album “ _Badly Written and Randomly Enforced_ ” will be available for purchase this Friday in stores and on _iTunes_! Make sure you go out and buy it! After the break the boys will be performing their single “ _Shut Your Mouth_ ”! Don’t go away!”

The crowd starts roaring again, and Christa gets up from her seat to come over and shake our hands. “Thanks for the interview, guys.”

“Not a problem. We were so stoked when your agent called us,” Connie says. “We’ve wanted to be on your show for ages.”

“Aw. I’m nothing special. I just talk to people and sometimes get them to give up their juicy secrets. Didn’t get much out of you boys though,” Christa laughs, grabbing a styrofoam cup of coffee from a passing intern..

“That’s because we have a PR team that would kill us for giving anything too scandalous away. Not that we have a lot of dirty secrets anyway,” Connie shrugs. “Anyway, we’d better go get ready.”

We bid Christa goodbye and head over to the small stage they have set up for us. I pick up my guitar and pull the strap over me, settling it into place before checking to make sure it’s tuned.

“Good job out there,” Thomas calls out, sauntering onstage with a drumstick twirling idly between his fingers. He pats my shoulder, heading over to the drum set.

“Yeah, man. You did great,” Franz agrees.

“I have to admit, Bodt. I’m proud of you,” Connie adds.

I can feel my cheeks flushing red as the entire band start complimenting me. I mutter a thank you before turning around to face the microphone. Before I can make sure that my cheeks aren’t the color of a tomato, we get the signal that we’re about to start filming again. I try to shrug off my nerves and the embarrassment I feel from being bombarded by compliments and focus playing and singing. My eyes search the crowd and settle on Eren and Jean again. They’re giving me thumbs up this time, and I feel a smile start creeping its way onto my face. They’re a lot like the guys. I feel at ease with them around, and being with the band and seeing Eren and Jean out in the crowd is enough to calm me to the point of functionality.

“Here performing their hit single “ _Shut Your Mouth_ ” from their new album “ _Badly Written and Randomly Enforced_ ”, here’s _A Mutual Addiction_!”

* * *

The performance goes smoothly. We only have to do one take before they let us go. The guys and I tell Christa that anyone who wants to come and talk to us is welcome to. We talk to quite a few fans and sign some autographs and even take a couple of pictures. I can’t stop smiling the entire time. I love interacting with the fans. I am a completely different person with them than I am with interviewers or people that I don’t know. To me, they’re friends. I would tell them everything PR won’t let me, because somehow I know that most of them would still love me and the band. But there’s still a fine line between how I act with the fans and how I behave when I’m with the guys and the rest of the people on the label.

Jean and Eren watch us from the sidelines the whole time. I can tell that Jean’s a little confused. I went from nervous and shaking one minute to happy and personable the next, and he hasn’t missed it, amber eyes sharp as they trace the lines of my practiced smiles.

He catches me as soon as we’re back in the dressing room, hovering a careful distance away, like he’s not sure how close he can get without making me uncomfortable. He doesn’t say anything at first,eyes darting back and forth from me to the floor and back again. He must be trying to think of what exactly he wants to say to me before Eren and Connie make their way back here.

“I don’t understand,” he finally says.

I let myself meet his gaze as evenly as I can, raising an eyebrow. “What don’t you understand?”

“Well, when I first met you, you were really closed off and nervous around me. Kind of like you were when you were getting ready to go on camera and when you first got out there,” Jean explains. “And then when you were with the fans, you were sort of like the Marco that I know now. I just don’t get it.”

“The fans are different,” I shrug, scratching at the back of my neck. I don’t have to go into detail about it now. “They know me. I know them. Maybe not personally, but there isn’t any grey area with them. I love them and they love me. It’s easier to be myself around them.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense,” Jean says. “But what I really don’t get is something else. You’re someone else entirely even when you’re with your fans. Why is that?”

I take a deep breath, eyes darting towards the door. I make my way over to it and lock it. If Connie and Eren want in, they’ll have to knock. I didn’t want to have this conversation with Jean now, but it might be the best time. If he’s already picking up on the difference between us when we’re with people from the label and when we’re with fans, then he has every right to know.

“Okay. We’re gonna have a talk. Sit down,” I tell him. I take a seat on the couch, and Jean plops down beside of me after a moment, concern furrowing his brow. “Do you remember at the party? The night you guys got signed? I told you that you’re a product and that you’ll be marketed like one? Well, there’s a lot more to it than just that. When you’re a product, there are a lot of things that go along with that.  There are restrictions on what you can do in the public eye. But I’ve already told you that. There are the restrictions that they put on you and the ones that you put on yourself. You know what you can keep a secret and what you can’t. So you become the person that the PR team wants you to be when you’re out in public, when you’re with the fans and when you’re with people you trust, like the people on the label, family, and friends, you’re the person that you are, the person that you want to be. You’ve got to learn when to be the PR version of you and when you can be the real you. I call it flipping The Switch. I imagine there’s a switch inside my head, one that I have to turn on and off. When I’m out in public, I flip it on and I’m the person that the team wants me to be, and when I head back to my apartment, I turn it off and I’m me again. It sounds easy in theory, but it’s... not. You’re basically living a double life, and you’ve got to learn to control that Switch like it’s nothing.”

I see Jean’s face fall a bit further with every word that comes out of my mouth. I know that he wasn’t expecting me to say what I said. I know that it’s a lot to take in, but it’s the truth and he deserved to know it.

“So basically even with my fans, I can’t be the real me?” he asks, a measured brokenness to his voice and his eyes on the floor.

“Not if you have anything to hide,” I tell him. “And like I said, everyone has secrets, Jean.”

So much for letting him keep that pretty smile of his. It’s gone now.


End file.
